


Paradisia

by Tayine



Series: The Man from UNCLE Continuation [2]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Intermission fic, M/M, Multi, NSFW, OT3, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Sex, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 14:03:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10466715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tayine/pseuds/Tayine
Summary: Desire for the two men has crept into Gaby's unconsciousness, and it manifests one warm, tropical night while she is on mission.A NSFW intermission ficlet set between Terra Firma and the sequel Fortiores Una.





	

Gaby hummed and leaned further back into the plushness of the mattress, her fingers digging into the silky sheets. Her skin was prickling with lights as electric pulses made lazy laps up and down her legs. She arched her back a bit and raised one hand to swirl her fingers into the messy locks of Illya’s hair as his head moved between her legs.

Napoleon was there too. He slid up the bed and kissed her on the mouth slow, long, and deep, his tongue an expert at telling her what to do. Just like on missions, she thought, and raised her neck to laugh as she pressed herself further back into the bed.

Illya made a growling sound, perhaps in response to her giggle, perhaps because he knew he was getting close. She wiggled a bit, her breathing changing now that she had both of them. Napoleon trailed kisses down her mouth, chin, and into the groove of her neck, where he bit softly at the bulging tendons of her throat before going to her breasts to suck at her nipples.

She moaned a bit – that was almost too much – and raised her hips, desperate for one of them to enter her.

Then Napoleon was standing at the foot of the bed, holding hard to the fleshiness of her thighs as he guided himself into her. Her legs hooked around his waist, one of her heels bumping into his perky rear, and she laughed again.

Her laugh turned into a gasp as Napoleon filled her. Illya was kissing her now, gentler than Napoleon had been, more sensitive. Gaby turned her head to grab hold of his face, one of her hands out and stroking his dick as he lay beside her.

She wanted them both, and Napoleon finished quickly, before she could, so that it was a group effort. She felt his cock pulse in her, and he shuddered where he stood, his knees locking. Gaby immediately pulled herself away and rolled over to straddle Illya, taking him into her while Napoleon climbed back onto the bed and sat behind her, his knees bookending hers, his hands stroking up and down her stomach.

She moved rhythmically on top of Illya, letting Napoleon get a feel for the pace so that he could match it, his belly pressed to her back. His cock was still hard, pressed up against the cleft of her rear, and she knew he would finish again, the selfish bastard.

Illya, lying still beneath them both, had his eyes half-closed. Gaby leaned down to rub her breasts on his chest and kiss him, and moved to the side to let Napoleon do the same. Then they were straight up again, Gaby leaning back into Napoleon, the back of her head resting on his shoulder as she pumped up and down, her thighs quivering. He put his hand between her legs and rubbed gently, matching the time of their slow thrusts.

Little murmurs of pleasure began to accent her pants as she rode the crest higher and higher. Her thighs were weak, and she knew she wouldn’t have been able to stay on without Napoleon keeping her upright behind her. She put a hand around the back of his head, taking a handful of his soft hair, and he bit her neck again as the first wave hit her. She cried out, barely registering that Illya and Napoleon had matched her, each one pulsing inside and behind her.

She trembled, feeling a second ripple breaking within her. She began to say their names, her eyes closed, someone’s mouth on hers-

And she woke, the electricity of the dream still shooting down to her toes. Without opening her eyes, she put her hand down to her wet underwear and finished herself quickly, wanting to preserve the build-up before it cooled.

She couldn’t make noise this time, but a small squeak got past her before she flipped over and rocked her hips onto her hand, pressing her cheek to the cheap sheets. She quivered, her toes curling, and relaxed.

Illya and Solo – her partners – were sleeping in an adjacent bedroom of the hotel suite. Gaby swallowed, trying to get her breathing under control. She could hear the ocean waves lapping at the beach outside the room, but that soothing sound only managed to inflame her again; it reminded her too much of the dream, and she supposed the sound had entered her subconscious.

She stood up, shedding her panties, and went to the bathroom, putting her head under the faucet and drinking from the stream with the light off. Sweat had cooled on her skin, and she washed her hands and rubbed both of them on her throat.

This was a new development. So far, the fantasies had only occurred during waking hours, when she had much more control, and they had stayed close to schoolgirl wonderings about kissing, or her hands on their bare skin, and, yes, even what their dicks would feel like. But a full-blown night spent together was new. Gaby drank another few gulps of water from the sink and then returned to her bed. Her sheets were mussed, and she could feel the spot where she’d been lying while in the dream, sweating out her desire.

She got back under the covers and stared up at the dark ceiling. Nothing had happened between them, all three of them, since the night she and Solo had pulled Illya from the ocean in the Bahamas. They’d kissed, her and both of them, and then they’d gone to the hospital and spent their time recuperating. And they’d never talked about it since, though she’d spotted their glances more than once, knowing they meant more than they had before.

It had been four months, and she’d begun to ache when she was with them – at least, when they weren’t being shot at. But the quiet moments, the downtime, when it was just the three of them, eating a meal or playing a game or gently teasing, was when she had wanted to do what her dream had featured. She wondered what would happen if she got up and strolled into their bedroom right now. They each had a twin-sized bed in the other room, the room meant for the children of a rich family who rented these kinds of beachside retreats, but they could always push them together.

She rolled over onto her stomach and curled into a ball. She was still recovering from the dream, and the warm heaviness between her legs wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. She smelled salt air from the open window across the room, and she remembered the taste of the ocean on Illya’s lips as she kissed him, so thankful to see him alive that she had nearly fainted.

The work they were there to do was light for once, and she was eager for it to be over, more so for the freedom that came from post-mission reprieve than for the knowledge of a job well done, a city or a country or a world well saved. As she drifted off to sleep again, she thought about the girl they were here, on the big island of Hawaii, to meet, and she hoped whatever it was that she had to say, it wouldn’t overshadow the thick promise of possibility she was feeling here in the dark, the last wisps of the dream curling away like tongues of smoke.


End file.
